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Friday, August 31, 2012

I have wanted to create a new blog for a long time now, and I have finally had the chance to do that! After three years as "Ammouret Lebnen" here on "Blog Ammouret Lebnen" I have decided to start blogging under my real name- which by the way is Nancy. ;) I would love it if you would like to follow me on my new blog;

Monday, April 16, 2012

I wrote this short story for an exam last year as a dedication to our people in Palestine, and now I want to share it with the rest of the world! I want to share it with YOU and I would really appreciate feedback:) So, please lean back, enjoy and make sure to tell me what you think! And for all the Palestinians out there: I want you to know that there are people out there who care, and soon you will hopefully have your country back! I also want to say thank you to the great artist May Nasr, who is really sweet and who actually took the time to read the preview of my story. She also gave me an idea for the title. May is one of my biggest role models and a great inspiration. You can become a fan of her /HERE\.(Just in case anybody wonders I am 100% Lebanese (living in Norway). I am not Palestinian, but I am a strong supporter of the Palestinian cause!) Remember to leave your comment! All my love, Ammouret Lebnen.The story starts underneath the photo:)

It
is said that love kills the time... It is said that time kills the
love...I want to cling to love, like an infant clings to his mothers
chest in fear that she will leave him... I want to run as fast as I
can to keep up with time, so that I do not get forgotten in a
past where the future is nothing more than a dream... A dream which
will never come true... For what am I, in the middle of all this- in
a world of hate and destruction-, other than a creature created with
love? And what is life, other than a moment in time?

I
open up my eyes, and I look upon the burned landscape of what used to
be my homeland. The landscape where there used to be olive trees, and
oranges which grew as big as watermelons. The landscape where there
used to be houses built by my ancestors, and where I was always
invited to have dinner and tea by total strangers when I walked home
from school in the winter... And last but not least, the landscapes of the hometown which I always loved as a kid, and which I promised
that I would never leave... Right now, by just sitting here, I am
keeping that promise.

I
see that the sun has begun to rise in the east, and the ruined houses
and the burned fields bathe in the golden rays of sunshine. It hits
me how the sun makes everything look beautiful... I had almost
forgotten how beautiful the sun is, and how much it warms a persons
heart... During the nights and days of bombing I barely saw
daylight, and even less the sun. The only sun I knew back then was
the sun of the songs. The sun I sang about by myself when I sat in
the basement night after night in the refugee camp, with my head
between my legs. The sun I sang about when the bombs fell down like
hail, and when mama said that soon it would be over and we would return to our home in Jafa. I understand now that the sun is the
source of life... At least it was the source of my life, in the
moments when it looked like my life was getting to an end... A
hope of seeing the sun again, is what kept me going!

I
close my eyes again, and I let the sunlight warm my face. I suddenly
get flashbacks of the past... A past that goes beyond the status
quo, beyond the distruction. A time, a long time ago when jeddo
and I used to sit terrace at sunrise. I used to make him tea, and
jeddo used to play my favourite tunes on his nay flute. The
most beautiful tunes in the world came out of jeddo`s flute
and even now, many years later, I can still hear them as clear as I could back then.

I
put my hand in my pocket and I feel the nay-flute that my grandfather
gave to me on the night that he died. It hurts to think of him,
because I miss him so much. I remember that he used to stroke my
hair, and tell me that I have the most beautiful hair in the world.
Afterwards he would put his hand in the pocket of the gray west that
he always used to wear, and give me a sweet that he had exchanged at
the souk for some of his
olives. Jeddou used to plant the greenest, and tastiest olives
in Jafa. He loved his olive trees and he took care of them as if they
were human beings... I asked him once what his secret was, and he
just smiled and told me that I will understand when I grow up. I now know what the secret is: Love. That is the reason why the trees dies...
They died because of the hatred, and because jeddou was
no longer there to give them the love they needed.

I
look down at the big fig tree that still stands down there at the
fields. I feel a bit happy because it made it through the war and I
can`t help but smile. Me and Lamya, my childhood friend, used to
climb on that tree when we were little. The times we got mad at our
parents we climbed up to the top of it, and we did not come down
before dark. We used to say that we wanted to live in the tree
forever, and never come back down to the ground! And so we did. Well,
at least until Lamyas mother came over from her house and stood
underneath the tree carrying the most delicious dishes. Then we
decided that the fight was not that important anyway, so we climbed
down.

Lamya
is not here anymore. She and her family were killed in 1948. They
were slaughtered. The men first, and then the women and children. The
women were raped and killed, after they had to watch their men die
slowly and painfully. No matter how much they begged, they were not
saved. The kids were killed at last. The echoes of their cry, still
lingers in my ears. I still see the look on Lamyas face just before
she died in my dreams every single night and it scares me. I was
standing outside, and I saw it happen. Yet, there was nothing I could
do about it. I watched my best friend and her family die, and yet
they call ME a terrorist? I wanted nothing back then but peace. I
just wanted them to leave us alone. To leave me, Lamya, her family,
my family and all of us ALONE! The fig tree still stands there as a
memory of a lost childhood, and as a reminder of the what this war has cost...

I
stand up. The memory of Lamyas death makes me angry... I can`t even
think about it without getting so mad, that I want to go and break
the fences that they have made and yell at them, tell them what they
have done! Tell them to go away! Everything used to be perfect before
they came... The zionists. At first I used to think that “the
zionists” was some kind of big, black monster with black hands
which came at night and killed everything it came across. I used to
think that the zionists had yellow fangs, and that it was what left
the torn up bodies which laid in the streets. I never thought that a
humanbeing could do such thing to another humanbeing. Well, I was
proven wrong.

Everything
used to be perfect before they came. I used to meet my friends at
school, I used to help jeddo pick olives, and then help mama
make the tastiest dishes in the kitchen. In the weekends we used to
invite our jewish neighbours over for dinner, and they used to bring
some of the tastiest dishes and sweets. I used to play with their son
Kenan, and the adults used to sit and share their thoughts about
politics and religion and we enjoyed the tastiest dishes from each
others cultures. Nothing is like that anymore.

Who
would have ever thought that I would stand here today and be a
refugee in my own country? Who would have thought that I would be all
alone, when my family itself could fit a village? I have lost my
jeddou, my best friend, my everything- God knows where my parents and
siblings are- and yet I am their terrorist?! Just because I want my
country back... I have lost everything, and there is no way that I am
going to let them take away my country as well... Where on earth are
the Arab military forces, where were they back then? Where is the
Arab “omma”, the arab brotherhood? Where are the leaders
of the world? I want to scream at the top of my lounges! I want to
scream out a prayer for rescue, as loud as I can. Somebody must hear
me at last? Somebody must care?!

Dear
leaders of the world, give me back my country! Make the
killer-machine which calls itself Israel come to an end... Jews and
muslims have lived together in peace in Palestine for hundreds of
years, why does that have to change now? Why do I have to leave, for
somebody elses agenda? Just so someone else can gain money, and
maintain their power? Why is there someone out there who wanted to
kill the ones I love and who wants to kill me?

Dear
God! Please listen to me, I beg you. I need you, I really do!

Dear
anybody! All humans have a country to live in... Except of me. I have
a country that lives in me... Please give me back my Palestine!
Words:Mama: momJeddou: grandfatherSouk: marketOmma: Brotherhood

Welcome to my blog♥

Hi there! Yes YOU! You have just entered "Blog Ammouret Lebnen" which is "Ammouret Lebnen`s" personal blog. I am a simple girl in a twisted world, and my blog is my personal journal where I can write my thoughs about EVERYTHING and EVERYONE. My blog= My world= My rules.

I can`t define or put a label neither on myself or on my blog: I am simply me and I love it! And everything that I write here is from the deepest part of my heart; no matter if it is about politics or shopping.